Don't Tread on the Bear!
by Ace of All Trades
Summary: "We sleep safely at night because rough men stand ready to visit violence upon those who would harm us." As Caesar's Legion descends upon the Mojave, the NCR finds itself the only thing standing in between the Mojave and its complete destruction. Follow the exploits of a Ranger Special Forces unit as they take the fight to the enemy and show the Legion the true meaning of War.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: _Fallout_ belongs to Bethesda and Obsidian. I am simply taking what they give me and twisting it for my own amusement.**

**2281**

**Camp Golf**

"Chief, you're online with the President."

One the television screen appeared the face of a burly man with shaven hair, a square jaw, and frowning lips.

Ranger Chief Hanlon saluted. "President Kimball, sir."

"What do you want, Hanlon?" the tired voice of President Kimball crackled through the screen.

"Sir, as of a few days ago, reports have confirmed that Nipton has been completely eradicated. Furthermore, an entire ranger station has been massacred. Caesar's Legion has declared responsibility for the attacks, sir."

The man on the screen seemed to visibly age several years. He slumped back into his chair.

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" Kimball demanded. Hanlon favored the president with a knowing look.

"I reported all of this to General Oliver, sir."

"Goddamn Oliver," Kimball muttered.

"Not only that, sir, but I've also received intel that the Fiends, and various other small-time gangs have become more volatile as of late. I'm sure Crimson Caravan will likely submit a complaint in the near future. Several of their caravans have been hit and decimated by raids." Hanlon paused. "Our grip on the Mojave's slipping, sir."

"Unacceptable. You need to handle this situation, Chief," President Kimball ordered. "Before this gets out of hand."

"Of course, sir. But sir, frankly, I want to know why you have some of our best men hunting ghosts on a colony that has been pacified and successfully assimilated. We both know Baja isn't of any strategic value."

Kimball eyed the older man coldly. "That sounds suspiciously like a Captain questioning the authority of the Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces…" He leaned forward. "Or am I just being overly sensitive?"

"Of course not, sir. I'm not questioning your authority, Mr. President, merely wondering about the status of some of my soldiers deployed so far…"

"The purpose behind the operation in Baja is on a need-to-know basis, Chief. And please, don't make me stoop to your level by saying the ridiculous play on words 'need', 'to', and 'know'."

The insult slid off Hanlon's skin like water off the back of a duck.

"I understand, President. But I must advise that you increase our military presence here, sir. We're simply too spread out to effectively secure our own territory."

"Out of the question, Chief," the President sighed. "As much as I would like to, my hands and feet are all tied down."

"Sir?"

"17 times! I requested going into conference 17 times, Chief, in order to deal with the pressing issue of the federal budget. We don't have the resources, between solving domestic conflicts, fighting the Legion, securing our territory, and the massive losses were taking from House."

"Sounds like you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, sir," Hanlon agreed.

"I can't spare the resources you need in defending the Mojave, Chief," Kimball said apologetically.

"Who said anything about defending the Mojave?" Kimball sat up, his attention successfully gained.

"What? Chief, were you not at the war council?"

"Yes, sir, I was. I'm not suggesting a full out military assault. We both know that isn't possible in our current state. We need a unit that would bring the fight to the enemy, alleviating some of the pressure on the rest of our soldiers."

"Oliver won't like this, Chief," Kimball warned.

"He won't know of this, sir," Hanlon countered. "I was simply making a suggestion to you."

"I see."

"As far as we're concerned, this unit doesn't exist." Kimball mulled over the information, before nodding slowly.

"Okay, Chief. I'll bite. Do what needs to be done. It seems I might have misplaced several requisition forms and funds. If you do happen to come across them…"

"Of course, sir."

"But Chief, this unit… it's your responsibility." The implications behind these words weren't lost to Hanlon.

"Duly noted," Hanlon replied, lighting a cigarette.

"Good hunting, Chief. Make us proud."

"Thank you, sir."

**[]**

**Camp Golf- House Resort**

David Bayard sauntered into the room, an easygoing smile on his face.

At least a dozen individuals of various affiliations were already inside. Bayard's bright green eyes recognized the patches from Rangers, Heavy Infantry, Army, and even a few PMC's. Some were huddled together, conversing in hushed tones. Judging from their curious expressions, David guessed that they had no idea what they were here for. A few heads turned and greeted him.

David Bayard was a part of the NCR Rangers, the elite Special Forces branch of the NCR military. At only Twenty-three years of age, Bayard already had six years of experience under his belt. A veteran of several campaigns, David Bayard was an experienced and seasoned warrior. He is one of the best and brightest.

David glided through the crowd of operators, and found a seat next to a bored looking Ranger.

"Heya Schwarz! Long time no see, eh?" David slapped the man on the shoulder.

"Bayard," the man grunted back.

"Still alive and kicking? Almost thought for sure your luck ran out in Caliente."

"It didn't. And you? Did you manage to start another war?"

"Eh? I don't start wars!" Bayard protested.

"Sac-Town," Schwarz replied easily.

"That's not fair. They shot at me first!"

"And then you proceeded to eliminate both gangs within two hours of stepping into the town."

"It was my orders!" Bayard whined.

"A war's a war."

"Speaking of wars, why are we here? Looks like the big wigs really took care to invite a lot of people to this party."

"You answer that, and you get a million dollars and a hooker," a husky, yet feminine voice responded. David and Schwarz turned around to face a woman, dressed in a civilian ranger outfit. Her hair was a silvery blonde, worn short, while her skin was an unnatural shade of white. She smirked, displaying small, white teeth.

"And my old buddy from boot is here as well! How could this day not get any better?" David exclaimed, throwing his arm around the woman. Though her hair was a very pale blonde, almost to the point of being gray and made her look slightly older from afar, Ranger Ghost was actually only twenty-five years old. Her exploits in battle were legendary. She didn't get the name ghost just because of her skin.

"Ranger Ghost," Schwarz greeted. Ghost shrugged off Lance's arm.

"Boys. If you believe the scuttlebutt, seems like Kimball's finally got his head out of his ass and allowed Hanlon to put together a special task force. And we're in the lineup."

"Maybe we're finally taking the fight to these Legion bastards," Schwarz muttered.

"Amen, brother. Amen," David said, nodded in agreement.

The door swung open, and two men entered: Chief Hanlon, leader of the Rangers, and Colonel Hsu, commander of the Fighting Fifty, or the 50th Army Battalion, one of the most decorated NCR Army units in the military. A stack of papers were passed out to each of the soldiers.

Hanlon nodded to the soldiers in the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, glad you could all make it." He clasped his hands together and made his way to the front of the room.

"I'm Chief Hanlon, field commander for the NCR Rangers. Assembled here today is the best group of handpicked warriors in the NCR. A special task force is being put together, and you are the lucky few who were selected for the unit. You are the best that the NCR Military has to offer. I'm sure you are all aware of the situation in the Mojave. If you will take a seat please.

Every soldier took a seat. Ghost nudged David and whispered, "See? Told ya."

"I would like to officially welcome all of you to Task Force Grizzly."

Hanlon nodded to Colonel Hsu.

"On to the next order of business. We have one mission, and one mission only. Make life a living hell for the Legion bastards. Depending on the situation, Grizzly will be tasked with completing anything, from advanced reconnaissance, direct action, assassination, sabotage, tactical retrieval and more. For the first time, we will be taking the fight to the enemy."

Murmurs of approval rippled through the crowd. It was no secret how many in the NCR were beginning to resent the cautious course of action taken under General Oliver.

"Officially, we do not exist. No one will ever know about what we do. We are professionals. If you're motivated by glory and heroics, the door is that way. You can go join the Legion. Good. Team composition and rosters will be on the third page of your packets. Remember these names, for they will be stuck with you for possibly the rest of this conflict."

No one moved.

"These are your brothers and sisters. These are your family. This is a diverse unit. If any of you have any bias against anyone else here, get rid of it. I don't care if you think your military branch is better than the guy next to you, I don't care if you're a racist. We don't have time for petty shit like that. How can we hope to fight the Legion if we are fighting amongst ourselves?" Hsu asked.

"Be aware," Hsu warned, "We will be conducting operations that conventional infantry cannot handle. Any mission we are assigned will not be easy. In fact, in most cases, the odds of success will be little to none. But that is why you have been selected. Of course, there will be perks in being a member of this elite unit. All of your clearance levels will be raised to Top Secret. Additionally, any operator in this unit will find that this unit can pay off huge dividends in the long run of your career: quicker promotions, higher pay. In short, the higher the risks, the higher the rewards."

"One last thing," Chief Hanlon said quietly. "It is both an honor and a privilege to be on this unit. But make no mistake; we are now the most important fighting force in the NCR. What we do here, matters back home. We don't get to sit any fight out any more. We are the spear head of the NCR. Every fight is our fight now. We are the difference between our nation prospering and utter destruction."

The room was completely silent. The soldiers' attentions were completely fixed upon Hanlon. A strange charisma seemed to radiate from him, capturing the focus and attention of everyone in the room. Hanlon's steely eyes swept across the room, meeting every eye in the room.

"Let's get to work people."

[]


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: _**Fallout**_ belongs to Bethesda and Obsidian. I am simply taking what they give me and twisting it for my own amusement.

Task Force Grizzly, or Grizzly, was a medium, platoon-sized unit, with a little over 40 operators, discounting support personnel. Every candidate is a veteran with at least three years of combat experience from other NCR military units. According to records obtained from abandoned, pre-war military bases, this unit functioned similarly to pre-War United States Special Operations Forces such as the Navy Seals and the Marine First Reconnaissance Unit.

TF Grizzly is divided into teams of two to eight operators, depending on the operation. These, small, flexible, and highly adaptable teams were known as AFOG's or Advanced Force Operating Groups. Each AFOG was given a specific callsign, allowing easy identification in the field and in communication.

Ranger David Bayard stared pensively at the cluster of bullets around the bull's eye down the range.

All members of TF Grizzly were issued a highly customized .45 Automatic Pistol. While its original model was originally purchased from Happy Trails Caravans from out East, in Utah, the Gun-Runners were able to create a design of their own, far superior to the .45 Auto. They called it the Colt 1911.

The Gun-Runners added numerous aftermarket accessories such as various sights, internal and external extractors, flat and arched mainspring housings, integral and add-on magazine wells, a variety of finishes and other options. According to one of their representatives, "This new ammunition, .45 ACP, will be capable of stopping a rampaging Yao Guai right in its tracks."

Bayard's current model featured a tan frame, ebony grip, with after-market grip safeties, ambidextrous thumb safeties, triggers, improved high-visibility sights, accurized barrels, grips, and improved magazines. Along the bottom of the barrel was a rail mounting a laser module and the barrel was threaded, capable of accepting a silencer.

He carefully laid down the tan handgun after he ejected the empty magazine. He bent down to pick up a spent shell casing.

"Impressive."

"I know, right?" Bayard asked cheerfully. He turned to see Ranger Ghost. Her ranger hat covered the upper portion of her face, but he could still see one side of her lips curled into a smirk.

"I can still do better." Ghost pulled out her own custom 1911. Seven shots later, the 1911's slide locked back, and Ghost lowered her smoking pistol, staring at an almost perfect grouping. It had to have been less than an inch from each other.

Bayard pouted.

"Now that's just bragging." Ghost shrugged, still smirking at Bayard.

"It's not bragging if I got the balls to back it up."

"You saying I don't have any balls?" Bayard challenged.

"Take it as you will."

"I think this demands a challenge. You versus me." Ghost thought about it for a second.

"Your sweet ass is mine," Ghost declared.

"Get ready to kiss my sweet ass once I trash yours!"

"In your dreams."

[]

**Camp Golf – Tactical Operations Center**

Chief Hanlon turned as Rangers Ghost and Bayard entered the room. The both saluted smartly him.

"Sir! Rangers Ghost and Bayard reporting for duty, Sir!" Ghost announced. Chief casually returned the salute.

"Now, there's no need for the formalities," the man said quietly. His southern accent seemed much more pronounced now. "Now, I've called both of you here because we got a situation at hand."

"It was getting too quiet for me, sir," Bayard said. The Chief gave the briefest of smiles before beckoning them to follow him to the center of room, where a table was. On the table was a map of a small section of the Mojave.

"You two know the deal. This information you are about to see is, naturally, top secret and classified."

A projector whirred to life. On the screen showed a ranger station, its distinct layout and defenses were very familiar to both Ghost and Bayard. Standard defense layout: almost 360 degree cover, good line of sight, easily defendable positions.

"This is Ranger Station Charlie, our listening post in the Southern region of the Mojave, a hop and a skip away from the small town of Novac. Standard crew complement of four rangers and several squads of troops. Their CO was Ranger Harland."

"Was, sir?" Ghost asked. Hanlon seemed to age several years, his body sagged a bit as he nodded. The projector flipped to new pictures. The pictures of the station changed. The solid, concrete walls were nothing but rubble, while the stacks of destroyed cars were toppled over. Several sections of the camp were nothing but blackened ash.

Inside, the bodies of three NCR Troops and the corpse of an NCR Ranger clad in patrol armor were laid out. Bullet holes and massive gashes littered their bodies.

"Almost the entire station was wiped out. We assumed that all personnel are KIA. Of course, we didn't know who did this… only that they had to have been skilled to get the drop on four rangers and several squads of troopers."

"Legion," Ghost growled.

"Yes. Several days ago, Ranger Andy radioed in, reporting Station Charlie's attack, as well as a message left by its attackers." Hanlon walked over to a holotape player and clicked a button.

_This is a message to the NCR from Legion. We are coming for you. Run and we will catch you. Hide, and we will find you. No matter what you do, you are all going to die. We took one of the women alive._

Bayard and Ghost bristled at the man's cold voice.

"Fuckin' Legion," Bayard hissed.

"That woman they took? Ranger Stella. Approximately two hours ago, I received actionable intel on her whereabouts."

Hanlon's finger pointed at a part of the map.

"Here. Grid 9 by 18. A team of rangers stumbled upon a group of Legion warriors. Ranger Stella and several other prisoners were with them. They tracked the Legion slaver group to a small compound. We believe it is a Legion Safehouse, and acts as a resupply and launch point for all cross-border activity."

Photos of a lone house atop a hill appeared on the projector.

"While the building doesn't look like much, we have determined that the interior of the building is connected to a series of caves and tunnels spread throughout the hills in this region."

"It explains how Legion raiding parties are able to disappear so quickly," Bayard murmured.

"Your main objective is to get Ranger Stella back. It is most likely that this slaver group is only there to resupply, rest, and ultimately get to Cottonwood Cove. If they take her there, we both know she ain't ever coming back. We all know what happens to Legion captives, especially women. We don't leave any of our people behind. Am I understood?"

"Hell yes, sir!"

"Good, good," Hanlon said, nodding his head approvingly. "We believe that the slaver group will most likely stay there for another two days before heading out again. That should give you enough time to reach your target. You will link up with Echo Squad, a Ranger reconnaissance team. I don't like sending you two on such a high risk operation with little intel, and even less support, but you two are the best reconnaissance operators in Grizzly, and I know you two can get the job done."

"We won't let you down, sir," Bayard promised. Hanlon nodded.

"Bring her home in one piece."

[]

**Author's Note:**

**Inspiration for TF Grizzly is taken from the NCR Rangers, Task Force 141, US Navy SEALs and Marine Force Recon. **

**This story will follow the Fallout: New Vegas plot line, save for a few tweaks here and there. **

**Ranger Stella is found in the Fort, and is the last enemy the Courier combats should they wish to complete the **_**Laurifer Gladiator**_** quest. She is the woman that the Legion took when they assaulted Ranger Station Charlie.**

**Next chapter: Ghost and Bayard will sweep and clear the Legion Safehouse, tearing down the place to find Ranger Stella.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: _**Fallout**_ belongs to Bethesda and Obsidian. I am simply taking what they give me and twisting it for my own amusement.

**Legion Safehouse  
0010 Hours**

The prime decanus sentry diligently stood outside of the Legion Safehouse. He sat, back straight, head on a swivel. Even at this early hour, he was alert and ready, for any who were caught dozing or slacking were immediately executed via crucifixion or firing squad. He had learned when he watched his brother beheaded for not being alert.

Even though their safehouse was well protected by natural barriers – hills and mountains – preserving their secrecy was of utmost importance. A small, smokeless fire burned weakly, a weak orange glow illuminating the land in front the small safehouse.

The Mojave night was bitingly cold, but he didn't care or notice. He was used to being exposed to the elements. All of the legionaries were. Only the strong were accepted into Caesar's Legion.

Slight movement in his peripherals caught his attention. Far out in the darkness of the night, a shadow moved. The legionary's heart rate spiked and adrenaline filled his veins. The excitement before battle. The blood lust. He silently pulled out his throwing spear, and crept towards the thing. Whatever it was – be it man or animal – it would be slain.

Ranger Ghost crept behind the distracted decanus, her left hand clutching her combat knife. When she was within a foot of the man, she leapt forward, her right hand covering the man's covered mouth, and raking her blade across his throat.

Blood dribbled out of his severed carotid artery, soaking his cloth mask that covered his face and mask. The Decanus tried to scream, but only a wet gurgling sound escaped his throats.

Instead of clutching his throat, like any normal person would do, the Decanus raised his spear, tip facing his chest, and impaled himself with it. Ghost barely had time to move out of the way, before the tip pierced the man's back.

Ghost scowled. Bastard tried to take her out as well.

She quickly dragged the dead man to the side of the wall. Her hands fished into the man's pockets and grabbed the keys to the safehouse.

Several figures emerged from the darkness.

Both Ghost and Bayard were kitted out in the fabled "Black Armor", or the Ranger Combat Armor: the distinctive trench coat and riot helmet. Both were equipped with heavily modified Marksman Carbines, the telescopic scope removed, replaced a red dot reflex sight, as well as a suppressor and laser accessory; custom 1911; combat knives; flash bang grenades. Various pouches were strapped to the chest plate and thighs.

Echo Squad, was an elite reconnaissance team of Rangers. Members of these reconnaissance teams had strict orders to observe and report only. Teams were restricted from engaging hostiles unless fired upon, or ordered to. All members of this four-man unit were equipped with the lighter ranger patrol armor and hat combination, along with standard issue cowboy repeaters and .357 magnums.

_Papa Bear, this is Eagle 2-1, we are mission launch for objective, 'Lioness.' How copy, over. _Bayard said into his radio.

Eagle 2 was the callsign for their AFOG.

_Eagle 2-1, Papa Bear copies all. Good hunting. Out._

Ghost nodded to Bayard. Both flicked on their audio and video recording devices attached to the side of their helmets.

"Watch your fire in this bunker," Bayard warned. "We're looking for Lioness."

Several whispered affirmatives came from the rest of the team.

Ghost flashed a couple of hand signals. The group of rangers stacked up on the wooden door. While the rest of the Rangers covered her, scanning for any contacts approaching the safehouse, Ghost silently slipped the key into the knob, and slowly inched the door open. One hand was carefully pushing the door open, while the other raised her marksman carbine, slowly pushing the barrel through the door.

The door creaked when it was halfway there. Ghost flinched, before pushing the door all the way open. She raised her carbine, and squeezed the trigger twice. The man's head exploded in a spray of pink mist as two armor piercing 5.56mm rounds crashed into his skull.

Bayard followed right behind her, moving to the left side of the door. As he entered the room, weapon raised, he spotted two others, dressed in the iconic red and black Legion armor.

His sights rested on a decanus' plumed helmet and he tapped the trigger feeling the carbine kick slightly against his shoulder, and watching as a tracer round cut through the man's neck. Another three rounds silenced the last legionary, leaving the wall behind the dead men pockmarked with bullet holes from armor piercing rounds over penetrating their targets, and splattered with blood.

The whole engagement lasted less than three seconds, and ended in four dead legionaries. Not one round had missed. Ghost moved fast, clearing her corners, and stacking up on the stairwell down to the main room. The rest of Echo squad filed in, covering the entrance. The last ranger in closes the door behind them.

Ghost takes point, creeping down the stairs. She turns, levels her rifle at the beds, and empties the rest of her magazine into the three sleeping Legionaries. Bayard clears the rest of the room, looking at the cramped spaces. No other doors or passageways were found.

No hostiles.

"Clear," Bayard whispered. The rest of the team echoed his statement.

"All clear."

"Secure anything of value, and look for any hidden switches or doors," Ghost ordered. The five operators dispersed, silently and carefully searching the safehouse, securing any objects of interest, such as scouting reports, mission logs, and more.

After a few minutes of silent searching, which felt like hours, one of the rangers found something.

"Found something… looks like a hidden switch," the woman hissed. "I think I see the door right… there!"

The woman pointed to a section of the wall in between a bed and a gun cabinet. The faint outline of a door could be seen. Ghost, Bayard, and two other rangers trained their weapons on the door, while the other ranger pressed the button.

A soft click was heard, before the door popped open. One of the rangers approached the door, and pulled it open. Cool air wafted into the slightly humid room. A dimly lit tunnel extended deep into the hills. The caves looked ancient, and crudely made. Bayard would have to guess that whoever made these tunnels used a lot of dynamite and explosives to do it.

_Papa Bear, this is Eagle 2-1. Discovered hidden entrance to subterranean tunnels. Break. Proceeding to possible target location._ Ghost reported in.

_Roger, 2-1. Confirmed sightings of tunnels. We're sending in a Ranger QRF to your location. _

_Eagle 2-1 copies. Proceeding to tunnels. Communication may be sketchy. How copy. Over."_

"_Papa Bear copies all. QRF's ETA in 20 mikes. Stay frosty out there Eagle. Out."_

There was only one light bulb that was barely functioning. The team slowly descended. It got darker, and darker, and the air became moist. Sound seemed to echo off of the surprisingly cavernous tunnel.

"Can't see shit," one of the rangers murmured. Bayard forgot that Echo squad wasn't equipped with the black ranger combat armor. Their helmets had built in low-light vision.

"Okay, we'll try to maintain the element of surprise for as long as possible. One light source only," Ghost whispered. Bayard could tell she was scowling underneath her helmet.

The squad leader of Echo flicked on the flashlight mounted on the under-barrel of his cowboy repeater.

"Understood, ma'am. I'll take point."

Bayard didn't like the cramped quarters. Their mobility was restricted by the narrow tunnels; worse, they were bunched up and therefore easier to kill with grenades or massed fire. The rangers moved quickly and quietly through the empty tunnels in a single file line.

"Stay frosty boys, we don't know what or who is hiding in here," one of the rangers muttered. The team followed the point man, until he held up a fist. The team halted and crouched, leaning against the sides of the tunnels and reducing their profiles.

"All clear. We're reaching a fork," the squad leader reported. "Two tunnels leading in separate directions: right and left. Should we split up?"

"No. We stay together. We'll take left. Chances are it'll probably lead out into the Mojave, closer to Cottonwood." The man nodded.

"Good call, ma'am."

The group rounded the corner, following the squad leader's flashlight's beam.

When they reached a long hallway, a clinking sound was heard, and the group froze. Something rolled against the leader's boot. He aimed down.

Illuminated was a gray cylinder with a yellow stripe above it. He took one look.

"Grenade!" the man screamed. While the others dove away, the squad leader leapt onto the grenade. A second later, the entire tunnel shook, and a muted thump was heard. The squad leader's body was lifted a foot into the air, before landing with a wet splat. Crimson liquid began to pool out and form a puddle around his body.

"Ambush!" Ghost yelled.

Several prime legionaries appeared from one of the doorways in the side of the hallway and charged at the rangers, who were still on the ground and recovering from the initial attack.

Bayard rolled onto his back, and squeezed the trigger. His silenced carbine's muffled cough was barely audible over the yells and screams of the attackers. A long burst of gunfire successfully dropped one the legion soldier.

"Contact at our 5!" A ranger cried. Behind them, three legion soldiers charged at them, their machetes waving wildly in the air.

The lead prime legionary easily batted away one of the ranger's repeaters, and aimed the crude blade in the soldier's neck. The ranger managed to bring his arm up just in time. The sharp blade cut through the gauntlet and embedded itself into the ranger's forearm, eliciting a small grunt of pain. The wounded ranger, unable to carry his repeater, drew his sidearm out and returned the favor. In return, the legionary received three .357 magnum armor piercing rounds point blank to the face.

"Vin's hit!"

"Handle it!" Ghost ordered. The team quickly recovered, forming a tight, compact group. A wall of bullets tore apart the other three legionaries behind them.

"Move up! We're sitting ducks here!"

The female ranger moved behind him and tapped his shoulder. Bayard and the other ranger moved up as she and Ghost provided covering fire. The loud crack of the cowboy repeaters echoing off the stone walls. Bayard dove into one the opening on the right.

He ducked just in time as a machete sliced through the space where his head once was. A prime decanus didn't wait for him to recover, as the decanus slammed his knee into Bayard's helmet. Despite wearing a helmet, the force of the impact drove Bayard back onto his back.

The other ranger, in the midst of reloading, charged the decanus, slamming the butt of his repeater into the man's face. The legionary reeled from the hard blow, clutching his fractured jaw.

Bayard drew his 1911 and ended the man. He got up and pulled the ranger out of the way, before emptying the rest of his magazine into two more recruit legionaries.

After reloading his sidearm, Bayard redrew his carbine.

Shifting his stance, so he was shooting lefty, Bayard snapped off several shots in the direction of the gunfire.

"Move! I got you covered!" Bayard yelled.

"Moving!" Ghost replied. Ghost, the female ranger, and the wounded ranger flattened themselves against the wall of the room across from Bayard.

Two more strobes of light flashed in the darkness.

"Contact! 10 meters ahead!"

"I see 'em!"

Ghost let off two more bursts with her carbine and was rewarded with a cry pain. She then reached into her trench coat and pulled out a frag grenade.

"Frag out!" Ghost called, before she hurled the grenade down the hallway. A loud explosion filled the hallway, as fire seemed to consume that small section. Then silence.

The survivors stayed in cover, listening for any movement. A low groan filled the air. Ghost raised two fingers and pointed at the direction. Bayard nodded back. Both of them slid out of their cover and slowly approached the enemy position.

As they got closer, they could see body parts strewn along the floor, and blood seemed to be painted along the sides of the tunnels. Eight bodies in various states of dismemberment lay strewn along the floor.

One legionary had the misfortune of still being alive. Both his legs and one of his arms were blown off, and he was bleeding rapidly.

Two shots rang out, ending his misery.

"All clear!" Bayard announced.

The remaining members of Echo squad slowly emerged from cover. One ranger went to check on the wounded, while the other ran to their squad leader.

While Ghost covered the tunnel, Bayard jogged back to assess the damage. One of the rangers rolled the squad leader's body over, and grimaced as the sight of his internal organs spilling out of a large hole in his stomach met her eyes.

"Dammit," the ranger muttered. He reached into his armor and pulled out his NCR tags. With a yank, he took them.

Bayard checked on the wounded ranger. The name stenciled on the collar of his armor read: Pearson.

Currently, Ranger Pearson was cradling his arm gingerly. A deep gash was leaking blood.

"M'fine Tasha," he gritted out, glaring at the female ranger currently treating him.

"No, you're not," Tasha said. "You've got a deep laceration on your forearm. Who knows what kind of shit's on that blade… hold still you stubborn bastard!"

Pearson grumbled, before ceasing his struggling. He looked up at the male ranger, Diamond. He shook his head. Pearson shut his eyes, and let his head rest against the stone.

"Well, fuck."

"How long?" Ghost asked, her attention still focused down the dark tunnel.

"Just… about… there!" Tasha said, as she jammed a stimpak into the man's arm, numbing the pain and introducing antibiotics into his wound. She wrapped his arm tightly with gauze, giving him a good slap.

"Ow. You bitch!" Pearson whined. Tasha rolled her eyes, but grinned.

"He's fine. If you hear him bitching, then you know he's good."

"Alright, let's mount up, and move out."

The rangers formed up, with Ghost taking the lead, and Tasha taking rear.

As they were about to continue onward, a small whimper brought their attention. Ghost held up a hand, signaling the group to stop. Everyone froze.

Someone whimpered again, this time, it was clearly behind a wooden door.

"We got someone in here!"

"Stack up! Ghost on the squeeze. Dynamic entry. Watch your shots!" Bayard said rapidly.

"Fuckin' do it!" Bayard growled. Ghost complied, stepping back, and brought her foot hard onto the door.

The operators were in the room in a flash.

"Clear!"

Bayard immediately went to the woman tied to the bed, clad only in her undergarments. Her shirt and bra were cut away, and heavy bruises dotted her face.

"Hang on, we got you," Bayard said reassuringly. He slid out his combat knife, causing her to flinch. He sawed off the rope restraining her, and pulled off her gag. She gasped, as her mouth was finally free.

Bayard had already shrugged off his heavy Kevlar trench coat and put it around the woman's shoulders. She was shaking violently. He hugged her to him.

"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe now," Bayard soothed. "Let's get you up. Can you walk?"

"I-I'm fine," she croaked. She buttoned up the trench coat around her slim body. Bayard smiled encouragingly at her.

"Good! Atta girl! Here." Bayard went out, and picked up a .44 magnum, prying it from the dead fingers of a Veteran Legionary.

He pulled the cylinder out and checked the chamber. Satisfied, he flicked his wrist and the weapon snapped shut. He went over and handed it to her.

_Papa Bear, this is Eagle 2-1. We have Lioness. Repeat we have Lioness. _Ghost reported.

_Eagle 2-… cannot… breaking up…_

"Shit, we're too far underground. We need to get out of here."

"Bayard, take point. I'll cover you guys," Ghost ordered. The sounds of running feet echoed down the hallway. She tossed several grenades down the tunnel, before running after the group.

The six members were sprinting as fast as they could, for the Legion was getting closer and closer. Stella stumbled, but Bayard scooped her up into his arms and continued without losing pace. Ranger Tasha took point, allowing Bayard to fall in right behind her.

"Damn, ranger, you got to lay off of the Fancy Lady Snacks," Bayard grunted.

"If I wasn't so tired, I would definitely kick your ass," Stella shot back tiredly. Bayard gave a strained laugh, as they continued running through the dark tunnels.

"I see the exit!" A flood of light at the top of the stairs filled the soldiers with hope. With a burst of speed, they sprinted up the tunnels back into the safehouse.

The sight that met them as they exited the safehouse made them stop dead in their tracks. Twelve Legionaries surrounded the house, their guns and spears all trained at the six soldiers.

"Stop right there, degenerates," the Legionary Decanus sneered. "The mighty Caesar has…"

The Decanus was cut off as a hail of gunfire and grenades cut him off. From both sides of the hill, emerged a dozen NCR Rangers.

_This is Gunslinger Actual. Enemies neutralized. Proceeding to secure objective._

_Roger Gunslinger. Give 'em hell._

The Rangers moved into the safehouse to clear out the remaining tunnels, while the medics went over to Eagle 2, to treat the wounded.

One of the rangers approached the group and pulled off his helmet. He smiled wryly at the team.

"Heard you guys needed some support. Looks like I manage to save your sorry ass. Again." Bayard in turn pulled off his helmet, returning the man's smile with a tired grin of his own.

"Yeah. Took your sweet time getting here too, eh, Shwarz?"

"Hey, I came as fast as I, uh, could," Schwarz replied unconvincingly.

"Was this because of the time that I shaved your eyebrows and half your hair off?" Bayard asked.

"Of course not!" Schwarz protested.

"It was the time that you stuck a radroach in his bunk," Ghost reminded Bayard helpfully.

"But she dared me!" Bayard whined.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Schwarz asked.

"It's your fault!"

"How am I at fault?" Schwarz wondered.

"Actually, Bayard's right," Ghost said. "Shouldn't have picked such an easily manipulated bunk mate."

"Yeah," Bayard said smugly. "Fool you once, shame on you! Wait! I'm not easily manipulated!"

All three veterans chuckled.

"Just like old times," they said in unison.

_Good work, Eagle. This one's for the books. _Chief Hanlon's deep voice crackled over the radio.

_Easy day, Papa Bear, Eagle 2 out._


End file.
